HotBlooded
by LadyReivin
Summary: Takes place sometime after "Ten Seconds". It's race night again, and the Kaulitz twins dominate the road. Fierce presence, unbeatable cars, and chemistry that just can't go wrong. Just another night in their lives.


**Title:** Ten Seconds  
**Author:** LadyReivin  
**Fandom:** Tokio Hotel  
**Pairing:** Tom/Bill, twincest  
**Beta:** The Lovely Sam – my creative friend.  
**Rating:** NC-17  
**Summary:** Takes place sometime after "Ten Seconds".  
It's race night again, and the Kaulitz twins dominate the road. Fierce presence, unbeatable cars, and chemistry that just can't go wrong. Just another night in their lives.  
**Author's Notes:** Crossposted from fiction. tokiohotelfiction .com under the same username. Banner can be seen at: http: / reivin17. deviantart. com/art / quot-Hot-Blooded-quot-TH-fic-banner-257062252 (minus spaces, of course)  
**A/N2:** Ideas for this came to me right away after getting home from seeing the premiere of "Fast Five". And like with the first story, there is quotes! Hope y'all can spot them!

Don't need to read "Ten Seconds" to understand this one, but chronologically - at the moment - this takes place sometime in the near future of "Ten Seconds"

* * *

_irrr-tch!_

_irrr-tch!_

_irrr-tch!_

The comforting and familiar sound of the ratchet filled the garage, mixing with the tones of hip hop sliding from the ghetto blaster sitting on a greasy counter top. Tanned skin, covered in grease smears, encased solid muscle, flickering smoothly with each move of the arm. The arm flowed up to broad shoulders and black hair tightly bound in braids. Burnt honey coloured eyes focused on the engine while the mans tongue flicked out over the loop pierced through the corner of his lower lip.

"Yo! Kaulitz! Hot car running in, get two nitro tanks ready to hook up. They already paid."

Standing up from the car, the man nodded. "Sure thing, boss." He muttered, setting down the tool before he cleaned his hands with a greasy rag that had been hanging from the back pocket of his low slung jeans. Tom covered the length of the garage in several long strides. Hoisting a canister of nitrous oxide on each shoulder, he turned just in time for blue Mazda RX-7 to pull up, windows down and some yuppie Mexican music blasting.

The door to the car swung open before the driver popped out, leaning one arm over the top of the car. "Hook me up, man! Gotta race tonight!"

Tom nodded, strolling over to the car as the driver opened the passenger door for him. Setting one tank on the ground, he leaned in and slid one canister into it's slot, tightening it down before he hooked it up to the lines. He repeated the process with the other tank before he stood up and glanced at the driver.

"You're all set." He drawled in his deep voice, heavily accented.

The man hesitated at that, head tilting to the side. "Hey, you're part of that German team ain't ya? The one that ain't been defeated yet…"

Rolling one shoulder in a shrug, Tom quirked his eyebrow at the driver of the Mazda. "So what if I am?"

With a nervous chuckle and a shrug, the man replied, "Guess it doesn't matter." That said, he slid behind the wheel and started the car up again and pulled away with a squeal of tires.

"Over compensation." Tom muttered as he went back into the garage, scratching at the bandana he had tied around his forehead. He leaned back over the nose of the 2008 Mitsubishi Lancer Evolution X that he had half gutted, sighing. He hated doing routine upgrade work. Nothing like recognizing a racer when the came in, only to get thrown a car with nothing but stock under it's hood and a long list of "wants" from the owner. Boring! Takes absolutely no talent or imagination.

Half hour into his work his boss called out into the garage area. Work day was over and everyone was free to go home – everyone as in Tom, the bubble gum popping girl at the counter, and their boss. Efficiently cleaning his tools, Tom put them away before he stripped out of his work shirt that held the logo for the garage and grabbed his car keys out of the employee room. With a glance at the time on his cell, slid behind the wheel. He had just enough time to hit up a one-stop store and grab some cigarettes before getting to the other side of the street. The Mazda driver wasn't the only one with a race that night.

* * *

The feel of heavy bass vibrated through Tom's insides before he even was in sight of the street where the race would start. Most the streetlights were out, just a few here and there to illuminate the large warehouse buildings that surrounded the roads. Fingers tapping on the steering wheel, Tom's head bobbed along to "Weck mich auf" by Samy Deluxe, his own subwoofer on to combat with all the other cars.

Not bothering with a turning signal, Tom pulled onto the street lit up in a way that pulsed seduction and power. People gathered everywhere, sitting on the bonnets of cars, walking down the sidewalk, making out against a door, or bent over the hood of someone's ride.

Tom's eyes wandered as he crept along through the people. He couldn't help but appreciate when a leggy brunet wandered by with heavy hips and a skirt so short he could see the cheeks of her ass nearly clearly. Not bad. He liked dark blonds better, though.

Finally, he found a spot to park his car. He pulled up and turned off the engine before getting out. The range of cars – and colours – drew a light smirk to his full lips. On the passenger side was a bright pink Nissan Fairlady Z, decked out for show. On his otherside sat a powder blue 2002 Porsche Cayman, not a single decal or undercar light in sight, just the factory look. He was sure that under the hood, it was as ready to race as any other car here.

He looked back at his 1998 Nissan Skyline GT-R and smirked. She might be older than the other two cars, but she definitely had the more powerful look. Deep metallic red with a matted black hood and fenders, she spoke of streamline speed. The car was an extension of his personality – or that was how he saw it. No other looked like it. No other had decals like those on his doors, or fenders styled quite that way. And under the hood, it was enough to make anyone come like a teen who just saw Jessica Alba walk by in a skimpy, near see-through bikini.

Popping a cigarette between his lips, Tom leaned against the nose of his car as he lit up. There was still a little while until the racing started and he was the first of his team to show up. This gave him plenty of time to scope out the competition – and to let his eyes wander. Taking a deep drag from his cigarette, his smoothed his hand down the black shirt he wore with a white silkscreen design. The shirt was paired with dark jeans – too baggy like all his cloths – and a white bandana with black designs around his forehead.

"Hey there, good lookin'"

Tom turned toward the voice, his lips wrapped around his cigarette once again. He couldn't help but smirk as he took in the girl walking toward him. Clear platform stilettos lead up to long, shapely legs with a nice tan. A short white skirt clung to her hips and stopped just in time to keep her somewhat decent. A translucent, shimmering shirt did nothing to hide her body, or the black bra that pushed her breasts high, so high they spilled over. Strawberry blond hair curled around her shoulders in a cute, bouncy cut, setting off the fullness of her face and the green of her eyes. Tom smirked, his eyes slowly dragging over her, from eyes to pink toes and back to her eyes.

"Hallo…" He drawled as he pulled the cigarette away from his lips.

She moved to stand in between his splayed legs, reaching out to run French tipped nails down his chest in a teasing way that she must've thought was sexy. "You here with anyone?" She purred.

Still smirking, he replied, blowing the smoke out of the corner of his mouth, "Not at the moment."

His reply garnered a smile from the blonde as she pressed closer, giving him an even better view of her full breasts. "Looking for someone?"

"Perhaps."

"Think I could that someone, handsome?" Her fingers walked up to his neck, nails trailing.

Tom tilted his head to the side, humming. "That depends on if you have what I like. I mean, I'm a boy who appreciates a good body, regardless of the make…but I do have some preferences."

Her finger tapped against his chin this time. "And what would those expectations be?"

Tom smiled slowly at that, knowing. "It starts with the eyes. They've gotta have those kind of eyes that can look right through the bullshit, to the good in someone. 20% angel, 80% devil. Down to earth. Ain't afraid to get a little engine grease under their fingernails."

This drew a pout from the girl pressed against him. "That doesn't sound anything like me."

Tom smirked, nodding his chin once. "It ain't."

Before Tom or the girl to say or do anything more another voice, smooth and accented, added to the conversation.

"Which means scat. Before what he does like adds some red liquid to decorate that non existent shirt of yours."

Tom rolled his head back and to the side, a slow smile curling on his lips as the girl jerked away from him as if she had been burned.

"Hey…" Tom drawled.

"Hey to yourself."

Leaning against the side of Tom's car was a man dressed tight blue jeans and heeled boots. A tight tee shirt, probably a few sizes too small, decorated with skulls clung to the mans torso. Smoky make-up surrounded soft honey brown eyes. A black hoop was pierced through one eyebrow and the mans hair fell in soft black dreads around his face and shoulders, highlighted with white. He pushed off the side of his car and moved around to Tom, stepping into the very spot that the girl had been standing just moments before.

Tom watched him closely with hooded eyes, his hands coming to settle on the mans narrow hips. "Didn't do a thing, I swear." He said, tilting his head back so he could look the man in the face.

"I know." Came the reply as a delicate, long fingered hand raised to run along Tom's jaw, the black and white French manicure dragging in an alluring way. The man leaned in, as if he were to kiss Tom.

"The teams waiting. Race will be starting soon. I entered both of us." That done, he pulled away and elegantly danced away from Tom's grasping hands, pulling a pout from the older man.

Tom sighed and gave in, reaching up to run his fingers over his cornrows as he pushed off the hood of his car. "What's the stakes for this one?"

The thinner male shrugged. "Just a ten large." He replied before he waved and turned to go to his own car that was parked few over. The 1991 Dodge Stealth was the inverse to Tom's. Black with red markings, it looked sleek and sexy next to the Maserati Granturismo and Honda Civic.

Tom watched as he slid behind the wheel of the car, starting it with a flare of lights and music. Running his tongue over his lower lip, his climbed into his own car and started it, adding his own selection of music to the chaos of noise.

Both cars pulled away at the same time, heading to the line that had been spray painted across the street with neon orange. They pulled up next to each other, engines revving as three more cars pulled up around them. A neon green and black Mitsubishi Spyder next to the Stealth. A purple Toyota Supra and the blue Porsche pulled up alongside Tom.

Tom glanced over at the man behind the wheel of the Stealth, meeting his eyes for a moment, smirking, before he turned his attention the thin, barely dressed girl that walked into the middle of the road. She raised her arms above her head and cocked one hip out to the side.

"Ready!"

Her hip cocked to the other side.

"Set!"

Again her hip cocked to the right.

"Go!"

In a move that could only have been practiced, she pulled her lacy bra from under her shirt and tossed it into the air.

Without hesitation, Tom slammed his foot down on the accelerator, his other foot pressing the clutch in as he shifted the car, shooting away from the line, taking second place behind the Porsche.

A quarter mile. Simple and easy. Ten seconds or less. All talent, speed, and timing. Being first off the line didn't matter. Being first to cross that last line, that was all that mattered.

Tom's world narrowed down to the road before him, the shifter in hand, and the black Dodge Stealth that ran neck to neck with him. He saw the moment as he continued to gain speed, the perfect moment to pass the Porsche. Shifting again, he twisted the wheel just enough to pull in front of it. The Spyder and Maserati were long forgotten, only in his rearview mirror. Now it was all down to him and the Stealth.

He glanced over, catching a glimpse of the driver. One pale hand was wrapped around the steering wheel, thumb resting over the red button for the NOS. Tom ran his tongue over his lips as his eyes went back to the road. The end was in sight. Now it was just down to sheer talent of timing.

Tom's thumb moved to run over the indent of his own NOS button, feeling it, memorizing the smooth surface as he shifted the car again. Close. Close. Soon. Now!

A second or two after the Stealth shot forward with it's own NOS mixture, Tom pressed down on his own button. The sheer force of the car shooting forward slammed him back into his seat. All he had to do was hold on, steer and shift, and hope he'd timed it just right.

The two cars sped along grill to grill, passing people, buildings, and cars in a flash. The end line, a red painted line with two cars parked at either end, grew closer and closer.

In the last few seconds, before they crossed the finish line, Tom managed to wrangle out the last bit of gas and horse power he needed to nose ahead of the Dodge Stealth, crossing the finish line first.

With a loud whoop of victory, he pulled the e-brake and spun the wheel, bringing the car to a rocking halt.

The Dodge Stealth pulled up besides Tom's Skyline just as Tom was getting out. The driver didn't move, only watched, as Tom was swarmed by people giving their congratulations. Scantily dressed women clung to him while guys slapped on him on the back. His attention was the on the shifty little black guy that held the money during the races. He stuck around, enjoying the glow of winning, just long enough to collect his winnings before he slid behind the wheel of his car once again.

Compulsively, Tom looked over at the driver of the Dodge once again. He got a flash of headlights in his eyes before the Stealth began to pull away from the scene. Tom tossed the wads of cash he'd just won on the passenger seat before he slid his Nissan into gear and followed after the car.

Once on the highway they ran neck to neck once again, only this time not racing. Seemingly the only cars traveling along the road toward the coast with the lights of the sleeping city as their stars.

Tom guided his car in behind the Dodge as they exited off the highway and pulled onto the road the lead to one of the many beaches in the area. Secluded, even during the day it tended to be more or less empty, with only one lifeguard tower in sight. None of this matter to him, though.

He parked the Skyline next to the Stealth, turning the engine off, efficiently bathing himself in darkness with only the light of the misty moon to see by. The engine hadn't even stopped humming when the passenger door was being ripped open and an agile body was folding in.

"Don't let it go to your head. I let you win."

The silence between them had been broken without preamble.

Tom's head tipped back as he laughed. "Bull. I won because I'm the superior one." He replied cockily.

The driver of the Dodge drew a leg up on the seat and turned to look at Tom. "Oh? Is that so?"

"Of course."

A finely manicured hand came out to cup Tom's jaw. "Don't let it go to your head." The man murmured before he leaned in and captured Tom's mouth in a kiss.

Tom's eyes flickered close, one arm snaking out around the man's thin shoulders, drawing him closer.

With a nip to Tom's pierced lower lip, the man withdrew, smirking. "Because I'm actually the superior twin."

Hand tightening on the man's shoulder, Tom's voice rumbled from his throat before he pulled the man in for another kiss. "We'll see about that, Bill."

There was no fight over this statement, just a soft moan as the hand on Tom's cheek traveled down to his chest, clutching at his shirt in a desperate way. Bill pressed closer to Tom, bending his lithe frame over center consol.

The need to breath forced them to break their kiss. Refusing to part from each other, Tom trailed kisses along Bill's jaw, aiming toward his neck. The younger mewled in pleasure as her reached out and pulled the lever on the steering wheel, raising up to create more room. That done, he swung one long leg over and settled in Tom's lap, arms wrapping around his broad shoulders.

Tom's hands settled on Bill's narrow hips, fingers snaking under his shirt as he latched his mouth onto Bill's neck nipping and sucking – marking. The attention dragged a deep moan from the youngers throat as his head fell back. Bill's hands came up and pulled the bandana from Tom's head before his long fingers tangled in Tom's braids, tugging.

Tom pulled back to admire his work, smirking before he pulled Bill's shirt off, tossing it over with the forgotten money.

"Mmm…"

Hooded eyes trailed over Bill's pale, tattooed flesh as Tom's fingers ghosted over his ribs, touching and enjoying. He ran one hand up to Bill's nipple, tugging at the piercing with teasing fingers. He got an immediate reaction to the attention, Bill's head tossing back as he simultaneously ground his hips down against Tom's.

Catching Bill's gaze, Tom dipped his head to close his mouth over the piercing, sucking and tugging lightly with his teeth. His hands slid down Bill's sides, stroking his waist before teasing the skin just above the fly of his jeans.

"Please…" Bill rasped, breath coming out in a soft pant. "Fuck…please…"

Tom smirked, giving his brother what he wanted. He opened his brother's pants before slipping his hand in to cup him, caressing with strong, calloused fingers, drawing a deep moan from the others throat.

"Yeah…

Pulling away from his brother's nipple, Tom licked his lower lip before he arched up and captured Bill's lips in a deep, demanding kiss. They only separated long enough for Bill to tug Tom's shirt off.

In moves that shouldn't have been manageable, Bill wiggled out of his pants before pushing Tom's down around his knees. Without hesitation he seated himself in his twins lap again and ground down against him, letting their cocks press together.

Tom groaned, letting his head fall back against the headrest of the car, his hands sliding over Bill's back, nails dragging lightly on the way back down. Flipping the consol open, he dug around until he found what he was looking for.

A moment later a soft ischnick/i sounded through the car as Tom flipped open the cap of the lube with his thumb. Slicking his fingers, he returned his hand to Bill, fingers teasing along his crack.

"Oh gods!" Bill cried out, arching back into Tom's touch. "Stop teasing, Tomi!"

He could only nod, kissing along Bill's neck, back to his mouth, as he slid one finger into his brother without preamble. Groaning against Bill's lips, he began to move his hand, spreading the lubricant before he slipped another finger in. Scissoring and shifting, he fucked Bill efficiently with his fingers, preparing him for something bigger and better.

It wasn't long before Bill was squirming and fucking himself back on his twins hand, all inhabitations lost. "That's enough…m'ready!"

Nodding again, Tom pulled his hand away and opened the lube again, slicking up his cock this time. He caught his brother's gaze, eyes dark as he lined himself up with Bill's entrance, teasing his tip against him.

Bill leaned in and kissed Tom, sweet and gentle this time as he slid down onto Tom's dick, back arching as he moaned in pleasure. Once seated against his brother's hips, he fell still, trembling slightly from the sensations coursing through his body.

It didn't last long. Breaking the kiss, Bill began to move, letting his head fall back as a deep moan ripped from his throat. His nails scratched at Tom's chest as he writhed, twisting and grinding.

"Fuck! You make me so hot…"

Tom's hands grasped Bill's hips tightly, guiding him to change the angle slightly. On the next down stroke, Bill screamed as fireworks flashed behind his eyelids. At this rate, neither would last long, too hyped up on the adrenaline from the race.

One of Tom's hands slid around to grasp Bill's weeping cock, stroking it in time with Bill's movements, bringing him to higher levels of pleasure.

Without warning, Bill's back bowed as he cried out, pleasure shooting through his nerve endings as he came fast and hard against his brother's stomach and hand.

Tom groaned as Bill's body pulsed and clenched around him. Bracing his feet against the floorboards, he thrust up a handful of times before tensing and emptying himself deep within his identical twin with a low moan.

Complete, Bill sagged against Tom's chest, his head coming to rest on the other's shoulder as he fought to recapture his breath.

"Mm…Tomi…" He murmured softly after a time, nuzzling Tom's neck, kissing his jaw.

Tom's response was to tighten his arms around Bill's waist, pulling him closer. He turned his head, kissing Bill's temple.

Bill tilted his head back with a slow smile, his hand stroking over Tom's chest – over his heart. "Seeing you like that…after you win, it makes me want to do things to you. With you." He said, eyes hooded and satisfied. "Everytime. Racing makes my blood hot…but seeing you…mmnh!"

This pulled a low chuckle from Tom's throat as he nosed at his brother's cheek. "I know the feeling."

"Oh? Do you?"

Tom nodded. "Yeah. The look you had when you chased that blond off…made me want to take you and fuck you right there on the hood of my car where everyone could see."

Bill smiled at that, eyebrows rising. "I wouldn't object."

* * *

**End Note:** And, just because it's too awesome and hot to ignore, Tom's car! I saw this, and my roommate and I decided right away, it as Tom's! http: / www. ridelust. com/ wp-content/ uploads/ nissankylinegtr .jpg


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